A Volturi Love Story
by Aunt Bran
Summary: Marcus Volturi lost his first wife to his brothers' misguided meddling. He finally pulled himself out of his depression with the help of Vanhi, an attractive brunette who was born in India but spent many years in England before she was turned. They are both dominant alpha personalities, so their clashes are loud and heated, but they are deeply in love.
1. Chapter 1

Vanhi Volturi paused in front of the full length mirror. Her cobalt blue sari was new, and it complemented the sapphires and diamonds that shimmered on her throat and earlobes. She smiled, confident that Marcus would be happy to see her wearing the jewels. He had surprised her with them for no particular reason, other than the fact that he loved buying her expensive jewelry. He liked to show her off, but she preferred their private moments in the spacious apartment within the castle walls.

As she walked toward the throne room, she reflected on the fifty years since she had first stepped into this sumptuous palace, terrified and alone. If she had been breathing, Marcus would have taken her breath away. He still did. She knew all about his first wife, and how devastated he was when he lost her. It was an uphill battle, teaching him to trust and to love again, but now they were inseparable. Their strong personalities often clashed, but their love was fierce and true.

Marcus looked up as Vanhi swept into the room. Their eyes met across the cavernous space, and she shivered at the intensity of his gaze. A tall, muscular guard stepped aside as she took her place beside her mate and placed her hand lightly on his arm. Her throne was an exact duplicate of the original three. Marcus had purchased one for each of the Volturi wives. Athenodora and Sulpicia seldom made use of them, but Vanhi often attended the hearings at her husband's side.

At a nod from Aro, the first supplicant was escorted in to stand before the Volturi royalty. The man was enormous, and he dwarfed the three six-foot guards stationed around him. Chains and shackles would be a waste of time and effort in this particular courtroom, so the Volturi relied on their bodyguards to be alert and vigilant.

The charges were read as the brothers listened carefully. All eyes were on the clerk, who stated calmly that the accused had attacked and killed a man on a city street, draining him in full view of passers-by. While everyone was intently listening, the prisoner lunged at Vanhi. The attack was so quick, so unexpected, that all eyes turned to Vanhi as she suddenly crumpled to the floor. Her blue sari was soaked with blood, and one arm had been severed at the elbow. It was nowhere in sight, and it seemed to have disappeared along with the hapless vampire.

Marcus's voice thundered through the vast room, echoing from the high stone ceiling. "Do not touch her!" He knelt at his wife's side, leaving the others to find and deal with the miscreant. Marcus knew there was no place to hide in this wing. The prisoner's fate was now sealed, regardless of what the tribunal would have decided sixty seconds before. Sounds of a scuffle drifted from a blind hallway behind the thrones, and a guard appeared carrying Vanhi's left arm, her rings glinting garishly in the artificial light. A faint cry of anger was suddenly extinguished, but Marcus was oblivious to the big man's' plight. He pulled Vanhi onto his lap, murmuring sounds of reassurance as he carefully and methodically replaced the limb and sealed the wound with his venom. He scooped her up in his arms, tucking her head under his chin and moving at vampire speed toward their apartment.

Aro stood, glaring at the guards with his ruby eyes. His jaw was tight, and when he finally spoke his voice came out in a whisper. "Thirty. Lashes." He returned to his throne and seated himself, his jaw twitching. He watched indifferently as the three guards shed their shirts and knelt on the stone floor. His lieutenant looked surprised when Aro held out his hand for the cruel scourge, a rawhide whip with metal beads along its length. His brother would want him to administer the punishment himself, and Marcus would have done the same for him.

Vanhi moaned softly as Marcus laid her gently on the bed. He deftly unwound the ruined sari and carefully cut away the short sleeved shirt and her lacy bra before covering her lightly with a sheet. "My blood will help you heal, my love," he whispered as he lay down beside her. He ripped open a vein in his wrist, and she sucked it greedily.

"Better. I'm better now," she repeated after a minute, gently pushing his arm away with her right hand. "Really, Marcus. Thank you. I'm okay." He gathered her into his arms, kissing her face gently.

"When you feel up to it, I'll run a bath for us and we'll get you cleaned up. But for now, just rest a bit." She closed her eyes, her body automatically curling into his as his rage slowly subsided.

After a few minutes, she looked up at him. "Marcus? I'm all sticky. Would you mind…"

"Of course, love. Just stay right here while I get the water ready. I'll come back and get you." He disappeared into their bathroom and opened the taps in the large jacuzzi. When it was full, he started the jets and, stepping out of his clothes, returned to the bedroom. He picked her up in his arms and walked into the water, settling himself with her on his lap. He reached for a sponge and gingerly washed off the blood that was caked on her arm and torso.

Vanhi closed her eyes once again, relaxing against his chest and sighing softly as he cleaned her. She winced as she flexed her arm, but it seemed to be working normally. "Do you want me to wash your hair, Vanhi? Or can it wait till tomorrow?" Without waiting for an answer, he started removing the pins until the chestnut waves shook free and flowed to her shoulders.

She shook her head. "I washed it this morning. It's fine," she murmured. "Just hold me, okay?"

His arms tightened around her. "As long as you wish, my darling. I never want to let you go."


	2. Chapter 2

Vanhi stirred. The water was getting cold, but she felt refreshed. She kissed Marcus's shoulder. "I'm okay, Marcus. Really." She rose and steadied herself with the handrail as his hands automatically grasped her hips and guided her to the steps. Then he was in front of her, wrapping her in a huge fluffy towel. She smiled up at him.

"You take such good care of me, but I'm a big, strong vampire. Unbreakable. Now get dressed and go back to work. I'll hang around here until you get home."

He frowned. "Okay, but on one condition. I'm asking Jane to stay with you until I return. I won't leave you alone."

She sighed deeply. "Jane? Where is Felix? You know he is my personal guard, Marcus."

Marcus looked uncomfortable. "I suspect he is...not available. Aro…" He broke off and shrugged. "I'm sure Aro is taking care of things, Vanhi." He picked up his phone to call Jane.

Vanhi's eyes flashed as she reached for his phone, setting it on the vanity table. "Taking care of things, Marcus? What, exactly, does that mean?" She scrolled through the contacts on his cell phone and pushed Felix's button. The ringing sound hung heavily in the room until Felix's voice advised that he was unavailable but would call back if the caller would leave a message. She set the phone back down with exaggerated care, a low warning growl escaping her throat.

"Now Vanhi, there's no reason to get upset. I've been here with you the whole time, so we have no idea what's going on. I will find out, and then we can talk. As soon as we call Jane."

Ignoring him, Vanhi picked up the phone again. She knew Aro's speed dial number was 2, and she pressed the button. Again, no answer. Again, voice mail. This time she left a terse message. "It's Vanhi, Aro. I need to talk to you. Immediately." She disconnected, handed the phone back to Marcus, and strode into the bedroom. She dressed quickly, opting for jeans and a soft red sweater that covered the ragged pink scar on her arm. She turned to find Marcus fully dressed, brushing his dark wavy hair.

Marcus set the brush down and walked purposefully to the brocade love seat. He beckoned to Vanhi to come and sit beside him. She hesitated, then with a quick nod she perched on the edge of the seat. His hands circled her waist, and he pulled her unyielding body back to his side with a sigh.

"What do you think the guards are there for, Vanhi?" he asked softly, his long fingers absently caressing her hair. "They know what their job is, and they know the possible consequences of their failure to do that job."

Vanhi turned her steely gaze to her husband. "Consequences? Marcus, these people protect us, live with us, serve us - for how many years? They're practically family!"

His voice was still soft, but there was a new edge to it. "They are the Volturi Guard, Vanhi. It is an elite position that comes with both advantages and responsibilities. They have served us for hundreds of years, but they almost allowed you to be killed today. That kind of failure cannot go unnoticed...or unpunished."

She stood and glared down at him. "I need to put a stop to this nonsense, Marcus. Now."

Marcus stood, his hands gripping her upper arms. She winced, and he released his grip. "I am sorry, Vanhi. I simply don't want you to be hurt. And I suspect that whatever punishment Aro decided on, on my behalf, has already been carried out. As a Volturi wife, you certainly have our respect and appreciation. But the laws are much older than you are."

"Don't you dare patronize me, Marcus! And you know me better than to think I would turn my head…" She snapped her jaws, biting off the last word, and whirled toward the door. He grabbed her good hand.

"Okay, Vanhi. Since I see I can't talk you into resting here, we will go together."

She held his hand tightly as they walked in silence back to the throne room. Aro was alone, his hands clasped in front of him, his chin resting on his hands. He looked up as they walked in and nodded slightly to his brother. His eyes were haunted, and they told Vanhi more than she wanted to know. "I am glad to see you have recovered, Vanhi." He spoke softly.

Hands on her hips, Vanhi stood in front of him and stared. "Thank you, Marcus. But I need to know what you have done."

"I did my duty, Vanhi. Nothing more, nothing less." He refused to meet her eyes. "It is not as easy as you might think."

Her words forced themselves between her teeth. "Did you kill them, Aro?"

That got his attention, and he finally looked at her. "Of course not, Vanhi. What do you think I am?"

"I'll reserve my answer to that question for now. You had them beaten then?"

He shook his head, looking at the floor beside his throne. "No. It was my responsibility."

Vanhi followed his gaze. On the floor beside his foot was the hateful scourge, surrounded by droplets of blood. She stared at it in disgust. "A cruel, hateful tyrant," she spat as she turned on her heel and headed to the Guard's quarters. She added, under her breath, "One of the three."

Marcus sighed and sank onto his own throne. "I am sorry, Aro. Thank you for doing what needed to be done. I am afraid I would have killed them."

Aro nodded without looking up. "I knew that, brother. I have known you much longer than your wife has."

Vanhi had never been in this part of the castle before. The halls were deserted, and the wooden doors were all closed. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in Felix's number, then listened for the ring. This time he answered on the first ring. "Yes ma'am. How may I serve you?"

She stopped at his door and replied softly, "I am outside your door. Will you open it please?"

She heard the audible sigh in stereo, from her phone and from behind the closed door. The connection broke and the door opened a few inches. She craned her neck to look up at his face, more than a foot above hers. He spoke first. "I owe you an apology." His head bowed quickly. "Because of my inattention you were injured. It won't happen again."

She shook her head. "No, Felix, it is I who need to apologize. I am furious with Aro - you do not deserve such treatment at the hands of people you serve so faithfully..."

He interrupted her, looking extremely uncomfortable. "These laws are ancient, and all of us are aware of them. Please don't give it another thought. We are fine; you know how quickly we heal. And the scars will be a valuable reminder. I thank you for coming, and I will tell the others - but please go now." He looked down the hall past her, probably expecting to see Marcus on her heels.

She nodded, not wanting to embarrass him further, and turned to walk slowly back to her apartment. She ignored Marcus, who glanced up from his paperwork, and kicked off her shoes. With a sigh, she sank gratefully onto their king-size bed and turned her back to the door. She propped a pillow under her aching arm and let the tears fall.


	3. Chapter 3

Marcus hesitated in the doorway. He hated that Vanhi was hurting, but he wasn't exactly sure what he could do about it. She had married into a unique family, and he thought she had finally come to grips with it. Until now. He moved silently into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We need to talk, darling."

"There's nothing to say," her broken voice replied softly. "How am I to accept the fact that I'm married to a man who beats his faithful servants?"

His hand stilled for just a heartbeat, then continued to stroke her shoulder. "Fifty years, Vanhi. Do you think I've been fooling you for fifty years? That I'm really so evil, and you never knew?"

Her reply was a breath, a sound audible only to a vampire with the keenest of hearing. "I just don't know, Marcus. And that is what is killing me." He sighed as she disappeared. Even his excellent vision failed to follow her exit, but exit she did. Hopefully she would find a corner somewhere in the vast castle to think it through. And come to the only conclusion that was acceptable. Marcus refused to acknowledge the unthinkable possibility that he could lose her; she was as much a part of him as his right hand, and he loved her completely. He would give her some time - but not too much - and then seek her out.

Sulpicia sensed that she was no longer alone in the turret before she saw Vanhi's tear-streaked face. "Vanhi? What's wrong, my dear?" She held out her arms and the younger woman melted into her embrace. "Is this about what happened today in the throne room?"

Vanhi nodded. "But how…?"

Sulpicia smiled, patting Vanhi's back. "Just because I live in this distant tower, it doesn't mean I don't know what's going on," she explained. "You are not the only one who is upset."

"Aro? But...it was he who…"

"I know, Vanhi. Aro did his duty - as he has for a thousand years. He did what was expected of him. It was what Marcus expected, and it was what the guards expected." Her voice was calming, soothing, as the two women embraced in the simple room with no corners. "These laws are ancient - older than you, even older than me! And maybe they need to be changed. But do not blame Marcus or Aro for doing what was expected of them. That's not fair."

Vanhi made an effort to pull herself together and stepped back so she could look into Sulpicia's eyes. She could see kindness and understanding there, as well as an unexpected determination. "So. You are on their side." It was a statement, not a question.

Sulpicia smiled gently. "There are no sides, Vanhi. The Volturi will discuss possible changes to their precious code, and they will consider everything that has happened. Change does not come easily here." She waved a hand to encompass the vast palace.

"But they owe the guards an apology, Sulpicia - at the very least," Vanhi insisted.

"No," Sulpicia responded quickly. "That would be insulting to everyone. What's done is done, and believe me when I say the guards would only be embarrassed by such a move. We must only hope that this will not happen again."

Vanhi shook her head. "Do you mind if I stay here for a while? I'm not ready to have that discussion with Marcus yet. I said some awful things to him."

"Of course not, Vanhi. Stay as long as you need to. But know that Marcus is just as miserable as you are, and you need to talk this out sooner rather than later." She un-muted the television and settled back into her rocking chair. Vanhi gave her a quick hug and lay down on the couch, again propping her arm on a pillow. She stared vacantly at the TV, oblivious to the sitcom Sulpicia was watching as she worked on her knitting.

Marcus returned to the throne room and dispensed with the remaining case load. All the guards were at their posts, and each was on high alert. No mention was made of the morning's stress, and everyone settled in to his duty. At the end of a long day, lengthened by delays and drama, Marcus loosened his tie and touched his brother's shoulder. "Caius certainly did pick a good day to take off. I guess it's time to face the music."

Aro nodded sympathetically and sped off toward his chambers, looking forward to spending some time with Sulpicia after a shower and a change of clothes. On second thought, Sulpicia had a perfectly functional shower stall in her tower, and this pleasant anticipation prompted a change in direction. She looked up from her knitting with a knowing smile. "You are here earlier than I expected. I haven't even changed…"

He chuckled, the tension already fleeing his body. "Yes, my dear, about that…" He picked up her knitting carefully and deposited it in the bag beside her chair. Then he kissed her hand and pulled her to her feet. What he whispered in her ear prompted a girlish giggle, and she took his hand and walked with him down the short hallway.

Marcus looked weary as he walked into his and Vanhi's apartment. His jacket was slung over his shoulder and his tie was askew. He nodded to his wife, who was seated demurely on the love seat, and entered their walk-in closet. He hung his jacket carefully, then replaced the tie in its usual place. The pristine white shirt landed in the laundry basket, and he selected a navy tee shirt and pulled it on. With a deep, though unnecessary, breath, he turned to his wife, his hands spread in an attitude of defeat.

"I cannot apologize, Vanhi."

"I know."

"Then what do you ask of me?"

She looked into those eyes she knew and loved so well. "First of all, forgiveness. I was angry, but I had no right to accuse you…" her voice trailed as she remembered the pain she had inflicted. "You are the kindest, most loving man I know," she continued. "And I am so very sorry I hurt you."

His eyes softened, and he sat next to her. He pulled her body, now willing and compliant, to his side. "I do understand, Vanhi. I talked to Aro, and he is not happy either. We will consult with Caius and review some of our archaic laws. But you must understand," he cautioned, "not everything you see will seem fair and just. We do the best we can, but we have been blessed - or possibly cursed - with a nearly impossible task. Keeping order in the vampire world is a daunting job."

Vanhi smiled for only the third time in this long, impossible day. She looked up at him, her right hand gently caressing his cheek. "I love you, Marcus. I love your power, your pride, and your gentle heart." Her voice dropped lower in pitch and volume, and she whispered "And I want you. So very much."

He growled softly in reply and gathered her in his arms. "I don't want to hurt you, Vanhi. Your arm…"

"You haven't hurt me yet," she whispered. "I'm fine. At least I will be…" The man could take a hint. His kiss warmed her cold heart, and soon she was lost in his taste, his touch, the searing heat of his hands on her cold skin. The wanting grew until she thought she would die of it. And then - sweet, sweet release. No sights, no sounds, no feelings in their world except for the two of them, molten into one being, spent and satisfied.

Marcus rolled onto his back and Vanhi collapsed across him, kissing his chest with her bruised lips. "I love you, Marcus," she breathed. "You might need to remind me once in a while. This way works just fine." She chuckled, her hand resting lightly on his hip.


	4. Chapter 4

Marcus groaned and sat up. He looked down at Vanhi and smiled. "Time to start my day, I guess." He stood and stretched.

"No!" Vanhi reached for him, but since he was stark naked there was nothing to grab. Her fingers slipped off his back and legs as if they were made of marble. She dissolved into a fit of giggles. "There's nothing...I can't…" She gave up trying to talk and surrendered to her hilarity.

Marcus turned to her and shook his head. "How old are you, Mrs. Volturi?" He grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. "Okay, now you have me. What are you planning to do with me?"

Vanhi sighed when she got control of herself. "Snuggle," she pouted. "It's no fun being lazy by myself."

Marcus leaned down and kissed her nose. "We spent the whole night snuggling, my dear - and kissing and touching and whispering sweet nothings. And, much as I would love to spend the whole day doing those same things, someone in this family has to bring home the bacon! If you miss me too much, come down to the throne room."

He saw her expression change, and he added quickly, "You have to face them sooner or later, Vanhi. And it won't get easier with time. Now I do have to get a move on." She admired his lean, toned body as he walked into the closet.

"Darling? You know we don't eat bacon, right? It's bad for your cholesterol."

He emerged from the closet shaking his head. In his most regal voice, he invited, "You may ogle me, milady, while I get dressed - but no touching."

She grimaced. "Well that's no fun at all!" But her eyes never left him as he dressed, and she appeared by his side, holding up the heavy velvet cloak as he slipped his arms into it. She kissed his cheek. "You look very handsome. And very...royal."

"You look quite fetching yourself, my dear. That's always been my favorite outfit." He leered at her naked body, kissed her quickly, and was gone.

Vanhi pulled on shorts and a tank top before heading out to the palace gardens. The new rose bushes she had ordered for Marcus had arrived, and she couldn't wait to plant them. She worked happily for a couple of hours, making room for the new roses. There were hues of pink, yellow, and peach, but she knew Mister Lincoln would be Marcus's new favorite, with its fragrant, blood-red blooms. After giving the plants a thorough watering, she showered and dressed carefully.

Today's sari was bright red with metallic gold trim. Vanhi applied sindoor carefully to her forehead and the part in her hair, then added stunning teardrop ruby earrings from her bedroom wall safe. She paused in front of the mirror before walking to the throne room. She waited in the vestibule for a lull in the activity, then glided across the large room to her husband's side. With a nod to those present, she took her seat beside him and rested her hand on his arm.

The afternoon passed uneventfully. Several minor infractions were heard, fines and punishments imposed. As dictated by ancient statutes, the Volturi never made threats or issued warnings. Anyone called before this royal tribunal had good reason to be afraid.

The guards cleared the room after the last case, and Vanhi suppressed a sigh of relief. She turned to Marcus and asked softly, "Would you like to take a walk in the garden? The new roses came in, and there's one in particular that I know you'll love."

He smiled and shed the heavy robe, tossing it on the throne as he offered his arm to her. He knew, without conscious thought but with the confidence of royalty, that someone would pick it up, make sure it was spotless, and discreetly hang it in his closet before tomorrow's session.

Marcus bent to inhale the heady aroma of the new rose. "You know me well, my dear. It is exquisite. As are you." After a quick glance around the garden, he pulled her to him. His hands, well practiced, slipped under the sari to caress her bare flesh as he kissed her deeply. He froze when someone nearby cleared his throat.

He glared at the guard. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, a dangerous tic barely noticeable in his jaw.

"Begging your pardon, master, but your brothers request your presence in the grand ballroom as soon as possible."

Marcus sighed and turned to the hapless guard, making no attempt to hide his obvious arousal. "Tell them I will be there...when I can," he growled in frustration. He turned back to Vanhi, who scrubbed a lipstick stain from his face with her thumb.

"Go ahead, darling. I shall wait here for you. Unless you want me to go with you…"

He shook his head. "I am sure there is no need of that. I will join you back here as quickly as I can. Or, better yet, why don't you meet me in our apartment? At least there is a lock on that door."

Three men were seated at the massive oak table when Marcus strode into the hall. He registered surprise when he recognized Carlisle Cullen talking softly with his brothers. "Carlisle? Have you come to rejoin us then?" He smiled warmly "I knew you couldn't stay away more than a few hundred years!"

Dr. Cullen's smile did not quite reach his eyes. "Hello, Marcus. You know I'm raking in too much money as a dedicated physician to consider changing jobs - never mind continents! Besides, I'm a family man." He stood and waited for Marcus to take the empty seat. "I've come to ask for your help, my friends. Do you remember my son, Emmett?"

Marcus grinned. "I suspect that anyone who's ever met Emmett is likely to remember him, Carlisle. I trust he is well? And his lovely wife, Rosalie?"

Carlisle's expression wiped the grin off of Marcus's face. "I hope so, Marcus. You see, he seems to have disappeared."


	5. Chapter 5

Aro spoke slowly. "We do have resources all over the world, Carlisle. And they are, of course, all at your disposal. But I suspect your personal visit here has a two-fold purpose." He frowned. "Did you really think we would be so bold as to kidnap your son, Carlisle?"

All eyes were on Cullen as he shook his head. "Not really, Aro. It's just that there are few entities in the world that would have the strength and the nerve to kidnap Emmett. I'm running out of ideas, and my family is frantic."

"Okay. We understand, and this is no time for recriminations," Marcus spoke in a clipped tone. "Will you fill us in, Carlisle? Are you sure he didn't just run off for some reason unknown to you?"

"No, he and his mate were in the forest, hunting. She came back alone and panic-stricken. There was no warning, no scuffle that she was aware of. She says he simply disappeared. My family scoured every inch of the area. We found his scent, but no sign of any other vampires. No wolves. No humans."

They brainstormed through the night. The brothers urged Carlisle to stay for a few days, but he felt he needed to keep moving. They assured him they would keep in touch with him, or with Esme if he was out of cell phone range. They said good-bye at the gate, and Marcus hurried to his and Vanhi's apartment.

"What's wrong, Darling?" She greeted him at the door, easing the jacket off his tense shoulders and hanging it over the back of a chair. She rubbed his back as he gave a short synopsis of the night's discussion.

"We'll soon have every vampire on the planet looking for Emmett," she murmured. "But right now, I know just what you need." She walked into the spacious bathroom and turned on the taps, running a warm bath While the large tub filled, she helped relieve Marcus of his clothes. As he sank gratefully into the steaming water, she undressed quickly and joined him. She settled onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well, this is awkward," she whispered. She chuckled softly, her attempts to settle comfortably simply increasing the friction that was causing the problem. Marcus grinned, happily distracted from his worries. He placed his hands on her waist and eased her, gently but firmly, onto the object of their discomfort.

"Oh...god...yes," she whimpered. "Perfect." She linked her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily while his cool hands explored her body under the churning warmth of the water.

Marcus held on as the tension built, and just as he felt himself slipping over the edge, his body a tightly coiled spring, he bared his fangs and with an audible "pop" bit into her shoulder. As the sweet red blood ran down his throat, Vanhi screamed - in pain, in pleasure, in the most pleasurable pain she had ever experienced - and her body shuddered in ecstasy. Marcus gasped, completely overloaded with incredible sensations, and held onto her for dear life.

When Vanhi was finally able to speak, she breathed "Jesus, Marcus! What made you do that? It was the most...the greatest...holy shit!"

A deep chuckle bubbled up from his throat, and he nuzzled her neck. "I honestly don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I wasn't really thinking, you know. At least not with my head. So you forgive me?"

She whispered weakly. "Damn."

They dried each other with fluffy white towels, and Marcus inspected her shoulder. "You sure you're okay, Vanhi?"

"Marcus, if I was any more okay I'd be bumping my head on the ceiling! I'm fine!" She took his hand and pulled him into the bedroom and onto the king size bed. In a tangle of limbs, they talked the morning away. Vanhi was of the opinion that Emmett had, for whatever reason, left of his own volition. It just didn't make sense to her that someone could pick up that mountain of a man - and a vampire at that - and take him away against his will.

"I don't know, babe," Marcus said, his fingers lightly tickling her arm. "I just don't see him taking off without telling anyone - especially Rose. You know how close they are."

"Maybe some kind of blackmail...or how about this? What if someone threatened Rosalie or another family member?" She shook her head. "No matter how you slice it, it makes no sense."

"Well, by now Aro has our entire network alerted, all over the world. I just don't think it's going to be that easy. I'm sure he's not wandering around lost. I think somebody's got him, V, and I can't imagine trying to restrain him."

Emmett paced the length and width of the cage once more. His throat burned, but he wouldn't give the bastards the satisfaction of asking for blood. The cage was silver, and his fists were scarred with burns from beating on it. It was his personal kryptonite, and somehow they'd known it. The worst part was the constant _watching_. The cage was like a giant fishbowl in their living quarters, and he never had a single moment of privacy. What enjoyment could these people possibly get from watching a large naked vampire pace? There was a couple and a child who looked about 16, and they spoke a language Emmett did not understand. He sighed, then heard a noise and looked up. There was a trap door in the top of the cage, a couple of feet over his head. A terrified woman dressed in rags was being prodded toward it as it slid open.

Emmett growled, the burning in his throat exacerbated by the delicious scent of human blood. He wanted to reassure the poor woman, but the scent was overpowering. He tried pretending that Carlisle was one of the gawkers. With a final thrust of the prod, she fell through the trap and it was slammed shut. She landed lightly on her feet and retreated to a corner as far from Emmett as she could get. The prod had pierced her arm, and a thin line of blood dripped down her sleeve. The audience tensed, waiting to see what he would do. He sat on the floor, wrapped his arms around his legs, and pressed his forehead to his knees, rocking slowly back and forth. He knew he could not hold out forever, but hopefully just long enough for someone to rescue him. It would have to be soon, or it would certainly be too late for the young girl.


	6. Chapter 6

Emmett couldn't figure out what it was that these people wanted from him. Obviously they were human, and they were definitely playing with fire. It was the kid who really bothered him. His eyes sparkled with a frightening kind of glee, and he was the one who had pushed the unfortunate girl into a cage with a vampire - for all they knew, a homicidal monster. Emmett was hardly affected by deprivation - he needed none of the fuels or comforts that humans depended upon. But the thirst was a constant ache now, and he was experiencing some lethargy.

The girl was in worse shape. She lounged against the far end of the enclosure, impervious to the wretched silver bars. Emmett mused that even if the silver was plating this thing must have cost a small fortune. A movement outside the cage caught his eye. It was the boy, and for the first time he had moved in close to the cage. He had something in his hand…

Shit! A slender arm reached inside the cage and slashed across the girl's exposed throat. In the millisecond it took Emmett to realize what was happening and move to her side, it was too late. As her eyes rolled back, Emmett cradled her thin body in his massive arms, his mouth moving of its own accord to the sweet bubbling stream pouring out of her ruined throat. The cage, the room, the people faded from his consciousness as he drank deeply, the terrible thirst finally satisfied.

The room came back into focus slowly, and Emmett found himself staring into the eyes of madness. The boy was sitting in a leather recliner, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, and he was laughing. As the father and son laughed and pointed, Emmett suddenly realized that his enjoyment of the long overdue nourishment was embarrassingly evident. He growled ferociously and lunged at the bars, but they continued to hold - and his hands sizzled with fresh blisters as he backed off in a hurry.

Esme met Carlisle at the door. He followed her upstairs to the formal living room, where Rosalie and Alice sat like statues. "The Volturi have agreed to help us search for Emmett," he began. He was interrupted by Esme, her dark eyes filled with fear.

"How do we know if he's even alive, Carlisle?" Her voice was a sob, and Rosalie sprang to her side.

Carlisle shook his head. "I would know, my dear. Our son is out there somewhere." He did not add, "...and I know he is in pain." She did not need to know that, and neither did Rosalie. "And Edward? Jasper?"

Alice answered this time. "Searching, networking, running in circles." She paced around the large room, then suddenly stopped. Her hand went to her throat and her eyes went wide. Everyone in the room froze.

"Silver" Alice breathed. "An enclosure...no, cage. A cage made of silver. And I can hear people talking, but I can't understand them. Russian?"

Carlisle waited, not daring to interrupt her. When it was clear that she would say no more, he clarified. "Not Russian. Romanian. Vladimir. But why? They've been at war with the Volturi for centuries, but never with our family." He realized his question was rhetorical. No one in the room could answer it any more than Carlisle himself could.

Marcus stood, listening intently to his cell phone. In the cavernous hall, Vanhi could hear both sides of the conversation clearly. With a tilt of his head, Marcus indicated that he would take the call outside and that she should follow. He knew that any vampire in the immediate area could hear it as well.

"I don't understand, Carlisle. I know the Romanians hate us, but this just doesn't make sense. What would they want with Emmett?"

"I honestly don't think they have him," Carlisle explained. "But the language makes me think that they may be the key to finding him. I have to talk to them. I would ask you, since you're closer geographically, but…"

Marcus sighed. "You know I'd do anything for you and your family, Carlisle, but they'd never talk to any of us." Vanhi placed her hand lightly on his arm and looked up at her husband.

"They've never met me, Marcus. What can I do to help? If I cross by boat to Yugoslavia, I can get to Romania today."

Marcus was already shaking his head. "And if they find out you're my wife, Vanhi? What then? I'm sorry, Carlisle, but I just can't take that chance."

"I agree, Marcus. I'll get there as quickly as possible. They will help me if they can." The line went dead. Marcus tried to avoid Vanhi's gaze, but she turned to face him, her arms encircling his waist.

"What if it was our child, Marcus? Where would you draw that line? Carlisle is our friend. This is his son. A day...an hour could mean the difference between life and death. Don't you see? I have to try. They don't know me, and they certainly have no reason to hate me."

Vladimir and Stefan heard her coming a mile away. In spite of her haste, Vanhi's colorful sari was spotless. She waited patiently for an answer to her knock - fingering the many bracelets that adorned her arms, removing an invisible speck from the costly fabric. Vampires seldom fidget, so Vanhi was apparently nervous. She straightened as the ancient door swung open and recognized Valdimir immediately. His hair, eyebrows, and lashes were pure white, his eyes a brilliant scarlet. He was dressed entirely in black, which served to accentuate his pallor. She estimated his height to be the same as hers, which surprised her. She had pictured him taller.

Vanhi got right to the point. "I am a friend of the Cullens, and they sent me to ask for your help. Their son, Emmett, has been kidnapped. He is being held in a cage, and they suspect it is in this vicinity. Will you help?"

Vladimir took his time looking her up and down, his gaze finally meeting her eyes. He smiled slowly and finally spoke in a thick accent. "Do you take me for a fool? Or did you really think I would not recognize you, Vanhi Volturi?"


	7. Chapter 7

Vanhi stood her ground. "I apologize for underestimating you, Vladimir. But the fact remains that Emmett, Carlisle's son, is missing. You and I have no personal history, and I'm not asking for myself. Will you help him?"

Stefan appeared beside Vladimir. He was the negative image of his friend, his hair and eyebrows as dark as the other's were light. His lip curled in a sneer. Ignoring Vanhi, he spoke to Vladimir with the same heavy accent, nearly the same voice. "What shall we do with her, brother? Perhaps if we find this Emmett we can arrange a trade. I wonder how Marcus would like to see his little bird in a silver cage without her feathers."

Vanhi's head snapped up. "I never said he was naked, Stefan. And I don't have time for games. What do you know?"

Stefan smirked. "One hears rumors, you know. People with a lot of money can buy anything they want - palaces, silver cages, even a vampire to keep on display. And what do I care? As long as the vampire is not me!"

"Please - do you know where this palace is? We need to hurry."

"Maybe. But we do not talk to Volturi. Maybe when my friend Carlisle gets here we will help him. But you…" Stefan looked at her with contempt and slammed the heavy oak door in her face. She put her fist through it before she sped off, but it gave her little satisfaction.

Stefan had actually helped her, however unintentionally. How many "palaces" could there be in this area? All the houses she had seen were modest, so how hard could it be to find a mansion among them? After three hours of searching in an ever-widening circle, Vanhi was beginning to realize how difficult it could be. And then she spotted it, high on a hill. It was a palatial estate, surrounded by manicured lawns. As she drew closer, she could see that there were two very expensive Italian cars in the driveway.

The twelve-foot wall was a cinch. As soon as she cleared it, she heard the alarm. There was a scuffling noise inside that reminded her of rats in a cage, then the slam of a heavy door. The picture window was at least eight feet long, and the glass appeared to be bullet proof. Fortunately, it was not vampire proof. With a running start, Vanhi punched through it, the glass falling behind her like a fountain. "Emmett!" No response.

She quickly ran through the rooms on the first floor, second floor, then the basement. No vampire. The sirens were closing in when she realized she must have the wrong mansion. She left the way she had come, leaped over the wall, and disappeared into the thick forest behind the house. She figured the occupants had been fortunate after all. Their luck could have been much worse if she had found them. That was when it hit her. She'd never found the secret door that she'd heard slamming when she first breached the wall.

Vanhi doubled back carefully. The police were still there, poking around the huge walled garden. Good. They were in uniform, a large beefy man and a tall, slender woman. While the alarm was disabled, Vanhi leaped over the wall again and found a snug hiding place in the branches of a leafy oak tree. She could be very patient. Before nightfall, the large window had been boarded up and the house lights began to come on one by one. "Fool me once, shame on you," she chanted in her head. "Fool me twice, shame on me!"

This time she was ready. Between the time she kicked in the front door and the alarm began to wail, she was inside, moving too quickly to be seen by the naked human eye. The family, apparently well rehearsed, hurried to the basement and activated a rolling door camouflaged in the paneling, then slipped inside. It had only taken 95 seconds, and the door slid closed.

The room was cavernous, with enough food and water stored in cardboard cartons to last the family for months. In the center was the cage, and inside a naked vampire paced angrily. He stopped suddenly and stared in the direction of the stacked boxes. He rubbed his eyes. A slender woman dressed in a sari stepped out from between the rows. She was middle aged and attractive, and she looked somehow familiar.

"You people wanted to see a vampire in action?" Vanhi asked in English. She growled and exposed her fangs, and then she was on the man. He was slow and over-fed, but it wouldn't have mattered. He screamed, a high-pitched squeal, as she sank her fangs into his throat. As Vanhi drank her fill, the woman - obviously his wife - fell to her knees. The son was riveted to the spot, a dark stain quickly spreading down the leg of his jeans as his bladder let go.

Vanhi turned to the boy, her teeth stained with bright red blood. She motioned to the top of the cage, where the trap door was securely fastened. He didn't move until she took a step toward his mother, and then he scrambled up and clambered over to the hatch. She growled, and he swung open the door. Emmett wasted no time. With one graceful leap, he was out of the cage and standing next to Vanhi. "I don't know who you are," he whispered, "but thank you!"

They heard the sound of a doorbell, and all eyes turned to a TV monitor high on the wall. It clearly showed the front of the house, the door hanging on one hinge, as the same two police officers were entering cautiously, guns drawn. Vanhi looked at Emmett and winced. The boy stared longingly at the door, but he knew better than to leave his relative safety atop the silver cage.

Sounds of a scuffle turned everyone's attention back to the monitor. The two officers were down, and one discharged his gun wildly, disabling a crystal chandelier, as the dark haired vampire on top of him penetrated his jugular vein with venomous fangs. Another vampire leaped on the female officer - and Vanhi immediately recognized the pale blonde as Vladimir. Unable to contain a smirk, she turned back to Emmett. "The cavalry has arrived. What do you want to do with these two?"

Emmett looked around the room until he spied what he was looking for - the expensive Persian rug would serve his purpose. He tossed it effortlessly onto the top of the cage and leaped up before looking back down at her and grinning wickedly. "Lunch."

It took them a while to find the switch, but the inside latch was not as well hidden. As the door slid open, they found the two vampires sitting on the floor outside. "It looks like you found your vampire, Mrs. Volturi," Vladimir quipped in his broken English. "Did you not have a plan for getting out?" They both smirked in unison.

Vanhi sighed. "I was making it up as I went along. Come on, Emmett. Let's find you something to wear and get the hell out of here before somebody comes to check on the officers." She turned to thank the Romanians, but they had already disappeared.


End file.
